Running from the XMen
by Cougar9
Summary: This is another Cougar story Following How I Joined the X-Men . I wanted to write her REALLY mad, and get a little back story of why she doesn't care for Xavier. R&R Please. This is Finished, it's only a one chapter deal. Enjoy!


OK Cougar fans, I am working on a novel, and although I don't have writers block, I can't get this little bit out of my head. This fic takes place just after the first fic, where Cougar decided to stay with the X-Men, not because she wanted to, but because she kind of had no choice. Events in this one will explain why she wasn't exactly 'thrilled' to see Xavier. I'm mean to him in this fic. I apologize :D

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men, they are property of Marvel and Stan Lee or whoever.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

My nightmares usually had me running, being chased, through the forests. My heart is pounding, my breathing is ragged and I'm looking everywhere for an out. Now I'm in a crowded city; and this isn't a dream.

Looking over my shoulder for the hundredth time, I slip inside a crowded fast food restaurant. In my pocket, I click on the image inducer that I'd stolen from the X-Men's mansion. I wasn't supposed to even know they had them, or where they were kept, but Magneto trained me well. All the kids at the school agree about that too. Today, I'm a pretty little blonde thing with a pony tail and peach lipstick. Gag me, I look like a cheerleader, but I haven't figure out how to reprogram the stupid thing.

It's rush hour, all the smells of greasy food and hurried people might mask my scent. I'm sure I gained a little time shuffling around the subway. I'm also sure he'd spotted me there. I look back once more and my stomach drops. He's there, scanning the lines, discreetly sniffing the air. I try to make it to the bathrooms.

"Plannin' on lunch ta be here, kid?" Wolverine growls from right behind me, and I stiffen.

My instincts are heavily weighted toward flight right now. He knows it, too.

"Don't run, girl. You'll just make a scene. Lets try the joint next door. They're a little less crowded." Taking my arm above the elbow, my FORMER teacher leads me out the side door and into the next building, not saying a word even after he has me firmly seated across from him at a booth where he commences to scowl at me until a waiter comes for our drinks.

I use my straw to swirl the ice cubes around my Pepsi and avoid eye contact as he takes a long drink of iced tea. I'd never guess him to be a tea drinker…

"You were grounded, and on probation," he finally states.

I shrug. I don't want to talk to him. I hate him, and he very well knows it. I'm fairly certain he hates me too, considering this is the third, no, fourth time he's had to chase me down since I started at Xavier's school. The first two times, most of the student body hated my guts for numerous reasons, but mostly because they found out I was trained by Magneto for a mission to kill the X-Men and destroy the school, and because I was in a very public commercial for mutant slavers (not by choice, but kids can be cruel). The third time was after I decided that just telling kids that a person isn't evil does not mean that they'll accept you, or even treat you decently in classes. The team that I was training with was better, though at times when I was being difficult, occasional snide remarks would be based on my past. My team wasn't unbearable, but everyone else could go to hell for all I cared.

"Ya think runnin' from all yer problems is gonna make them go away?" After a moment, he growls, "Answer, me, girl."

Pressing my lips together to stop myself from flat out screaming at him, I take a breath and look him in the eye long enough to say, "In this case it will."

He shakes his head, "You got a lot ta learn, kid, and ya aint gonna learn it runnin' wild every time something makes ya mad."

"I'm not running," I snap, angrily.

"Bull shit," he crosses his arms and looks me over.

"You don't own me, Wolverine," I hiss at him, completely ready to snap. "I can leave if I want."

"Yer fifteen-"

"I'll be sixteen next month," I cut him off.

"That doesn't matter. Yer still a minor, and you don't get ta run around doing whatever you want."

"I'm not doing anything illegal. I'm not hurting anyone." Though I really would LOVE to be hurting him right now.

"Stealing is illegal, kid. Grand theft auto, even if you are a minor, will get you time. And It aint gonna be juvy either. Yer a mutant, you'll go to maximum security."

"Grand theft?" I roll my eyes, "It was just some old car that I _borrowed_. I didn't do nothing to it except run it out of gas."

"You stole a '68 Dodge Charger." He says this like its supposed to mean something.

"Yea, 1968 means that its old. I said it was old."

Now he looks at me like I'm retarded. Nice. "It's a classic American Muscle car."

I shrug again, "What do you care, you're Canadian."

"Look, kid, my point is that yer comin' back ta the mansion with me."

"No," I cross my arms over my chest and lean back. "I'm not."

His blue eyes narrow at me, "I spent two flamin' days trackin' ya all over this city and I aint goin' back empty handed. Yer comin' with me nice and civil or kickin' and screamin'. Take yer pick." When all I do is continue to glare at him, he gets up and grabs the back of my shirt, hoisting me out of my seat. "Lets go."

We get two steps before I let out the most annoying scream in my life and begin thrashing around as ineffectively as I can manage. "Let me go! Help! I'm being kidnapped! Help me! Help!" I start to flail around, grabbing at random objects to slow him down. Anything to make myself seem weak and vulnerable.

"What the hell are you doing?" I growls close to my ear.

"I am making a scene," I hiss back, then scream again, knowing it'll hurt his overly sensitive ears. "HELP! Ow! Let me go, please, just let me go! Somebody help me!"

People are staring now, a couple are moving forward. One's a big guy from behind the grill.

"Hey, buddy, you got a problem here or what? The girl said let go."

It's not really fair of me; I know if any of these people start a fight over my 'kidnapping' Wolverine will totally cream them, but it'll at least let me get away. I wait for Logan to do something, pop his claws, growl, punch the guy in the face. Instead, he pulls a wallet out of his coat pocket.

"I'm with the US Marshall's office. We've been tracking this girl here for months."

"What!" I really do shriek this time, "You are not!"

Giving me a rough pat down while keeping a death grip on my arm, he produces my image inducer, flipping it back off. The man takes a step back at the sight of my claws.

"She's a mutant, and she's real good at hiding," Logan talks over my head to the guy, "Sorry ta cause ya trouble in your restaurant."

The big man holds up his hands, "Hey, sorry for interfering. Good job though. Don't worry about your bill."

"Thanks," Logan's so civil to him, as I try to stomp on his foot, "Have a good afternoon."

Once out on the side walks I snap up at him, "You are _not_ a US Marshall."

He waves the holographic gadget in front of my face, still dragging me down the street, "And yer not a blonde. Where the hell'd you get this?"

"Where'd you get yer badge. THAT'S illegal too, ya know, impersonating an officer." I'm not entirely sure of that, but it sounds right.

"Yea, well I got the badge and the cuffs, so press yer luck, darlin' and I'll lock you up in the back too." I twist to look at him, trying to tell if it's an idle threat or not. He opens the passenger door to his car and shoves me in. "Buckle up."

XXXXXX Somewhere between Atlanta, Georgia and New York City XXXXXX

"I hate you." I tell him for the third of forth time, staring straight out the windshield and listening to his old people music.

"About now, the feelin' is mutual," he growls, chewing on his unlit cigar.

XXXXXX A Little farther along the way XXXXXX

The car slows, waking me up from my near sleep. The traffic is congested, slower and thicker than I've ever been used to. If someone had to stop suddenly, it'd be a disaster. An unpleasant thought comes to me.

Looking to my right, there's dense forests, but I'm sure that there's a town near by with an airport, judging by the amount of planes flying in low. If I could get to the air port, I might be able to sneak onto a random plane, and get away. And, here's the unpleasant part, if I happened to jump from the moving car, Wolverine wouldn't be able to just stop dead to get to me. He'd have to switch lanes and pull over, then chase me on foot. My lead could be as much as a mile on him…

I really should weigh this through, but when opportunity knocks…I guess I jump from moving vehicles…The seat belt clicks. The door opens. I try REALLY hard not to get run over as Logan lets out a very bad word.

I hit hard, scraping myself up but not hurting bad enough not to get up and doge the minivan about to run me over. I dart through the traffic and take off in a dead sprint to the woods. I still hate the trees, it reminds me of Sabertooth trying to kill me. This time, it's Wolverine, though, and he may not be trying to kill me. We'll see how that goes.

I run, hurdle tree branches, trip over hidden sticks, get back up and duck and weave through trees. I can barely catch my breath, but I'm not stopping. The brush is getting thicker and I hope it means that there's a road ahead, or, better yet, an airport. I'm disappointed; it's only a stream. One that I now have to cross. Then something big hits me from behind.

Logan spear tackles me to the ground, pivoting at the very last second so that I'm not crushed into the earth. I lash out with my claws, ripping through enough skin that any normal person would know enough to leave me alone. I said normal….

Wolverine snarls back at me, wrestling my wrists away, taking the numerous kicks I'm aiming at all his soft spots and pinning me to the wet ground with his full weight.

"Let me go you motherless piece of-"

"Settle down and watch yer mouth, girl."

I continue to thrash around and call him every curse word I've ever heard, which is actually quite a lot. About the time I'm calling his mother a one legged whore who resembles a donkey, he hoists me off the ground and suddenly submerges me into the stream. The water is ice cold and I almost gasp at the shock of it. He pulls me back to the surface where I gasp for enough air to scream at him, "You dirty son of a -" back into the water, I struggle against his grip until he pulls me up again.

"I said watch yer mouth. Fightin' me aint gonna do you no good, now cool off."

"Go go hell," I wrench one slippery arm away and claw at his face. Flailing, he shoves me back under the running water.

The next time up, he grabs my arm only centimeters from his jugular vein, and I'm back under.

He dunks me two more times until I'm sputtering and choking, then hauls me onto the stream so I can cough the water from my lungs and nose. But he doesn't let me go, and as soon as I'm done retching, he slaps the first handcuff on my right wrist.

"No," I bolt forward, clawing at the earth, trying to get away.

Logan jerks my restrained arm back and up painfully so that he can grab a hold of my free one. "I gave you yer options, kid."

"Let me go," I'm still coughing, trying to push down my sudden rising panic. "Let go," I repeat, though he already has the other cuff locked on.

True to his word, Wolverine throws me over his shoulder and brings me kicking and screaming back to his discreetly parked car. No one sees him toss me into the back seat, still calling him every dirty name in the book and kicking at the closed door. On the road, he cranks his stupid oldies music up to drown out my profanity. Its not until my voice is almost gone, nearly thirty miles later that I finally stop yelling. I do keep kicking the back of his seat periodically until he threatens to put me in the trunk.

At some point, he looks into the mirror to see me sulking and shivering in the back seat. He turns down the radio enough to ask, "Ya all right, kid?" I remain silent but he turns on the heat.

As we take an exit into a town I fiddle with my cuffs. I'd twisted around and looped my feet through so my hands were in the front. I make them jingle, then pull them tight, then jingle again. He starts again, "It's a feral thing." His eyes meet mine in the mirror and he elaborates, "That feelin' that comes when yer tied up. Confined. The beast doesn't like it. It's hard ta fight the fear, I know." Was that supposed to be his apology?

My cat eyes narrow, "Then you should know better."

He focuses on pulling into the motel. I'd rather stay in the car, but he yanks me out and into the lobby with him. He knew I was sullen, but not stupid enough to ignore the chance to run in a second. Damn him.

In the room, he tosses a duffel bag at me. When I open it, it has a couple pairs of clothes. Apparently, he knew he'd catch me on the run.

"You gonna uncuff me now or what?" I demand, tossing the bag just into the bathroom door.

He glances into the bathroom, looking for exits, then pulls out the key. The moment the second cuff is off, my hand flies toward his face. He wasn't expecting it, mostly because I wasn't planning on slapping him. I've never slapped anyone before. My claws left four thin scratches across his cheek that I spot before turning on my heel and marching into the bathroom.

"Leave the door unlocked," he barks.

"Fxck you," I snap, slamming it shut and locking it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

We pull up into the front of the school and I let myself out of the car. Logan's half way to the stairs before he realizes I'm walking back toward the gates.

"Hey-" he grabs my arm, spinning me around to face him and I get to see his eyes pop out as I jam my knee between his legs.

"Don't touch me," I growl turning and walking again.

"This," he hisses, getting up from his knees, "Is getting old, girl."

Once again he grabs me, throwing me over his shoulder and drags me to Xavier's office door. Unceremoniously, he dumps me onto the ground and leans in close. "Ya think the cuffs were bad, don't test me, kid, or I'll stick ya into one of the holding cells for a week."

"Yer an ass hole," I glower right back into his face.

He reaches around me to open the door and gives my shoulder a push into the room, "The Professor wants a word with ya. Mind yer mouth."

"Miss Kowatch," Professor Xavier's voice is full of disapproval.

I sigh and turn to face him. His dark eyebrows rise at the sight of the road rash on my cheek and arms. "I prefer Cougar."

"We'll discuss that, yes. Please, have a seat."

I'd rather stand, but my mother raised me with manners, so I sit in the small chair in front of his desk.

"I'll get to the point, Cougar. This is a school, and we have rules. You were on probation and not only left the school grounds but left the state without informing any body."

Leaning forward, I say slowly, as if to a dull child, "That's because I don't want to be here."

His brows get just a little closer together at my tone. "You are fifteen, Ms. Kowatch-"

"Cougar," I correct him again.

"Which makes you a minor. As your school, we are responsible for your well being. Stealing expensive collector cars to cross state lines is not permissible, as you should know."

"I don't want to be here," I repeat, a little more curtly this time.

"A child your age doesn't always know what's in his or her best interest. It would be in your best interest to continue your education, as well as your training in your powers. Logan has informed me that you don't always have control of your feral reactions."

"Oh, yea, cuz he'd know," I roll my eyes.

I seem to be irritating him. "Cougar, this is a serious matter. What you did was illegal, and dangerous. You could have easily injured yourself or numerous others."

"Good God, don't you ever listen?" I finally snap, cutting him off. "I don't want to be here. I don't want to go to school here. I'm not your responsibility."

"You're only fifteen-"

"Quit saying that," I throw my hands up, "What the hell does that matter?"

"It matters because you are still a minor. I've spoken with your mother-"

Now I'm annoyed. My family shouldn't have to be bother by any of the mess that I'm in in New York. "You have no right-"

"These are your options, Ms. Kowatch." I bristle at his tone, " Your family agrees that you should stay in school for your safety, as well as your future. Magneto may still be targeting you for betraying him. Numerous mutant groups have seen your performance in Richard Blackstone's commercial for mutant laborers and have set bounties on your head for doing so. And there's always the threat of Victor Creed targeting you. If you do not agree to stay here, your mother has agreed to sign over legal custody of you to the school."

I'm mad, fuming that people are controlling my life without me, but one little thing seeps through the anger. "You can't do that. Legally I'm dead. If it's known that I'm alive, those people that were coming to my house before could go back. Or anyone else that's after. That puts my _family's_ safety at risk."

Professor Xavier leaned back in his chair, "Then I suggest that you agree to abide by the school rules, if the alternative is unsatisfactory."

My eyes narrow at him. Xavier, the great peace keeper, was blackmailing a 15 year old with her family's safety to make her stay in his stupid school. He couldn't get me to stay for my own safety, but my family's? Open season.

I think of the most hateful thing I can say, but tone it down to simply, "You want me to sign the contract in blood then or what?"

"Your anger, at this point, is understandable. But in hindsight, I hope that you'll appreciate what you've forced us to do. That being said, your attitude in unnecessary."

"Whatever," I lean back and cross my arms. "Can I go back to my room now, or do ya got a nice little cage ta stick me in?"

"Cougar," Xavier frowned deeply, "I believe that is enough. If you don't want to be treated like a child then don't behave like one."

"Ya know what?" I snap, "I was WAY more mature before I came ta this place, so you figure that one out, Magneto, I mean, Professor."

Oh, yea, that one got him.

"Miss Kowatch, you are excused to your room until you learn to be more respectful."

Without hesitation, I get up to leave. Cyclops is just outside the door, waiting for me and I can't help but get in the last word, "Oh, yea, don't forget the brainwashed foot soldier guard to escort me back to my cell."

Summer's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Apparently he was out of the loop about my new found rudeness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I'm put on probation. Again. And grounded. Again. This time, I'm forbidden to even set foot outside. Wolverine's threat is confirmed. If I run again, I'll be confined to a holding cell when I'm not in class or training. I decide not to go to either of those. If I'm here for my own protection, then fine. I'll only stay here to be 'protected' and nothing else. Cyclops comes and escorts me to a lecture from Xavier, in which I refuse to speak, mostly because the only thing I can think of is very unkind words.

My third night back I'm at the door to my balcony, glaring out at the lack of stars in the sky when Wolverine comes up behind me.

"Hey, kid."

I jump, but quickly add, "I'm not outside."

He looks me over for a moment then tells me, "I'm getting that lifted. Go out 'n get some fresh air. Ya need it."

I give him a distrustful look before cautiously stepping out onto the cool cement. "What do ya mean, 'lifted'." I ask as he joins me.

"It means," the man stops, then shakes his head, "It means I think it's bullshit and it's getting' lifted."

Well this confuses me. I'd figured it was his idea. "Why? What do you care?"

Pulling out a cigar, he checks the wind direction and lights it up. "I don't. But I dragged ya back here to keep yer ass outta trouble, whether you like it or not. What Chuck decides ta do with you is his business."

"But..?" I press.

"But I know why yer stayin' here. And keeping you locked inside is as bad as kickin a man when he's down. Chuck's outta line on this one."

"It's not fair, you know." I tell him, not expecting sympathy, but maybe someone that understands my point of view.

"No, it aint. But you gotta deal with it, either way." He puffs his cigar a couple times then adds. "This is a good school. A Good place. Ya gotta give it more of a chance. The kids that give ya grief, give it back or let it go. Either way, ya gotta face it, kid. Quit runnin."

I continue to scowl at the inky sky. "I like the team training." I finally admit.

"Yea," this seems to surprise him. "Why's that?"

"Well, other than you yellin' all the time, I like learning that stuff. The control and the defense and stuff. I think I'd like being an X-Man." I think I can just barely pick out Orion's Belt in the sky.

He puts out his cigar on the bottom of his boot and stuffs the butt into his shirt pocket. "Then maybe you should start goin' ta practice again. And classes while yer at it." On his way in he says over his shoulder. "Next week we're learnin' the correct way ta jump outta a movin' car."

"Shut up," I snap, just making out his laugh as he heads down the stairs.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

K guys, R&R please. This took me five hours to type, so I hope it was worth it!


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